


Dealing

by Tedronai



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedronai/pseuds/Tedronai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tam al'Thor and Abell Cauthon, wanted by the Whitecloaks, hide in the woods outside Emond's Field and deal with the fear for their loved ones the Two Rivers way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dealing

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at titles, mkay. Dedicated to shunnaoaddict on Tumblr; I don't actually know if she has an account here.

“Thank you, Marin.” Tam accepted the wrapped package with a grateful smile. The scent of freshly baked bread made his mouth water. It wasn’t as if he and Abell weren’t able to live off the forest; both men were good hunters, like all Two Rivers men and many women too. No, survival wasn’t the issue at all, just that Marin al’Vere’s bread was the best Tam had ever tasted.

The mayor’s wife smiled back, but there was a tightness around her eyes. “How is Abell holding up?” When Tam didn’t answer instantly, she went on, “It must be hard for him, with Natti and the girls taken… If there’s anything we can do…”

But there wasn’t, especially when the Women’s Circle kept it a secret even from the Village Council that they knew of Tam al’Thor and Abell Cauthon’s whereabouts. Tam shook his head. “You just take care of those still in the village, Marin,” he said, gently but firmly. “And be careful.”

“I am always careful, Tam al’Thor,” she replied. Then she was gone, moving so quietly that someone who didn’t know her wouldn’t have believed the motherly woman capable of such stealth.

Shaking his head, Tam returned to the camp. It didn’t look like much - a deceptively simple-looking lean-to for shelter and a small campfire was all, but it was deliberately built so that it would be easy to dismantle quickly if need be, and it would require relatively little effort to hide the evidence. Oh, you couldn’t erase all the traces, not enough to fool a Two Rivers trained tracker, but Trollocs, for example, wouldn’t have a clue that there had ever been a camp. Abell was crouched by the fire, turning a rabbit on a spit. Tam could smell the scent of roasting meat.

“Any news?” Abell asked without turning.

“Not much,” Tam replied. “People are afraid but dealing with it the Two Rivers way.”

The other man grunted. “Are there other ways?”

The question obviously wasn’t entirely serious, but neither was it really a joke. It reminded Tam again that his friend had lived his whole life in the Two Rivers, never venturing further than Taren Ferry until last year. The journey to Tar Valon and back had been an eye-opening experience, undoubtedly for both of them. Tam would never forget the look on his friend’s face when they had caught sight of Tar Valon and Dragonmount.

“Marin brought bread,” Tam said after a while, sitting cross-legged by the fire.

Abell looked up, his expression momentarily brighter. “Aw, bless her heart. Marin bakes the best bread in all of-” He cut off with a sheepish - and quite clearly forced - grin. “Don’t tell Natti I said that.”

“Wouldn’t cross my mind,” Tam assured him, in an equally light voice, with equally fake cheer. The people still in Emond’s Field weren’t the only ones afraid, or dealing with fear the Two Rivers way. Worry for Rand was a constant factor of Tam’s life, had been ever since that Winternight that seemed like a lifetime ago, but Rand was a decent lad and Tam had enough faith in his son to trust that somehow everything would be fine. Abell, however… Not only had his eldest child - and only son - gone off along with Rand, and Perrin Aybara, but now his wife and two young daughters were held captive by the Whitecloaks, and Light only knew how they were being treated. But talking of such matters changed nothing and therefore wasn’t worth the bother. Instead, Tam sniffed the air, frowning. “I think you’re burning the rabbit.”

* * *

 

Later in the evening - night, really - Tam was stirring the cooling ashes with a stick; the weather wasn’t cold enough to require a fire burning through the night and the risk of having someone see it in the darkness wasn’t worth taking. It was his turn to keep watch and Abell had gone to sleep. At least Tam hoped the other man was asleep. He needed the rest.

Tam wondered what would become of Emond’s Field if the Trollocs and Whitecloaks weren’t going to leave. Two Rivers people didn’t abandon their homes just like that, but would they stay if death seemed inevitable? Would Tam stay? With Kari fifteen years dead and Rand gone, even the farm destroyed, nothing really held him back if the worse came to worst. Except… Abell, of course, wouldn’t go anywhere as long as the Whitecloaks held his family. And that ultimately decided it for Tam, too; even if he had been willing to abandon the village, he wouldn’t abandon Abell Cauthon.

A faint sound caught Tam’s attention and he turned to look over his shoulder; Abell had pushed the blankets aside and sat up, staring straight ahead in the disoriented way of someone abruptly woken from a deep sleep. In the dim light of the half-moon Tam couldn’t see his face clearly, but he could make out the grimace that briefly twisted the roguishly handsome face.

“Can’t sleep?” Tam asked.

Abell blinked, then shook his head. “I’m a bloody awful father, you know,” he said quietly.

Tam raised his eyebrows - which the other man probably couldn’t see in the darkness. “What horsecrap are you talking about now?” he asked incredulously.

Abell came to sit beside him and stared silently into distance for a long while before speaking again, “Well, no, I guess I’m a… what’s the word? Midi-something?”

“Mediocre?” Tam offered.

“Yeah, that. A mediocre father. And a bloody awful husband, that’s what I am.”

Tam wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Something in his friend’s voice sounded like this wasn’t just another instance of feeling guilty over not being able to free his family from the Whitecloaks; Abell knew there was nothing he could have done except get himself killed, which wouldn’t have helped anybody. “Why’d you reckon that?” he finally asked.

There was a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a bitter chuckle. “I love my kids and it’s killing me that I can’t do anything,” he began, slowly, hesitantly. “But Natti…” He trailed off, not looking at Tam. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d give my life to save her if it came to that. Her and the girls. But I don’t… For a while already… It’s not…”

Ah, so that’s where the wind was blowing. “You got married young,” Tam said after a while, in a carefully neutral tone. “And you’ve been married for, what, twenty years? Mat was born not a year after, wasn’t it?” The other man nodded. Tam went on, “Of course it’s not going to stay the same. People change, we all do as we grow up, grow older. And if a marriage isn’t all heart-flutter and romance after twenty years and three kids, well, that’s no wonder. Life… happens.”

Abell barked a laugh. “You don’t figure I know all that?” he remarked wryly. “I wasn’t born yesterday.” He sighed. “I just figure it’s more than that. I mean look at Marin and Bran, or the Luhhans. It’s not like we barely stand each other or anything. I’m still fond of her, and she of me, I think. And it’s enough to make it work. Or it would be, if…” He didn’t finish the sentence, just glanced sideways at Tam without really meeting his eyes.

“We’ll get them back, somehow,” Tam said, with more conviction than he felt. It broke his heart to see Abell like this, Abell, who normally was a twenty years older version of his son, Mat, with an easy grin and a twinkle in his eye. Well, without the tendency to get into trouble.

“You never married again,” Abell said after yet another moment of silence.

Tam shook his head. “Didn’t feel fair to put a woman in that position, constantly being compared to Kari, if only in her imagination,” he said. “I loved her, and I still do, but it’s been fifteen years and I suspect that the memory of her that I love isn’t actually the whole truth of what she was.” Looking at his friend, he had the feeling that his explanation wasn’t making much sense. “Of course she was a great woman. But memory is a funny thing. I can’t remember that she had a single flaw, at least none that didn’t just make her more perfect, if you know what I mean. And that just can’t be true, because everybody’s got flaws.”

Slowly, Abell nodded. “Like the early years of my marriage. Yes, I think I know what you mean.” Then he snorted. “Listen to us. I don’t think we’re quite old enough to be talking like this.”

Tam smiled faintly; he felt old, too old sometimes, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud, not now that Abell appeared almost in good spirits again. “Old enough to require some sleep, regardless,” he said. “I suggest you try sleeping again. It’s still some hours ‘till dawn.”

“You should, too,” Abell replied. Before Tam could begin to protest, he added, “Nothing’s going to find us tonight or they would have already. Come on, don’t think I haven’t noticed you pulling longer watches than you should. You need the rest, too. Tam?”

There was something in the other man’s voice that Tam couldn’t define, but he heard himself say, “All right, then.”

As he settled down next to his friend and pulled the blankets over the both of them, he had to admit that it was a nice thing, sleeping next to another person after so long. Without thinking, he draped his arm across Abell’s chest - and was about to withdraw quickly as he realised what he’d done, but before he could do so, Abell turned slightly and snuggled closer to him with a soft sigh. Tam didn’t move for a while - unsure if the other man was already asleep - but then he felt Abell’s arm curl around his waist and, interpreting this as assent, pulled his friend closer into a fierce embrace.

“Tam, I… hope you don’t mind…” Abell spoke softly, the sound muffled against Tam’s shoulder.

Tam wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, or both. Did he _mind_? Holding Abell, he felt more complete than he had in fifteen years. “No,” he whispered, not trusting his voice. “I don’t mind.”


End file.
